<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>before the fireworks by postalcoast</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27204956">before the fireworks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/postalcoast/pseuds/postalcoast'>postalcoast</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, basically john goes to the mayor's party instead of bill, the gilded cage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:20:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>571</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27204956</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/postalcoast/pseuds/postalcoast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Marston/Arthur Morgan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>before the fireworks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sound of overlapping chatter from the party guests. Laughter, forced and polite. Violins and cellos all coming together to form a melody as beautiful as the stars twinkling up in the sky above them. </p><p> </p><p>John’s profile is illuminated by the lights that hang over the party and its guests, cutting across his features in a sharp, defined sort of way. </p><p> </p><p>He must’ve caught Arthur staring because John’s looking at him now. </p><p> </p><p>Looking like he’s caught between wanting to say something and being at a loss for words because he’s just got his mouth open, slack-jawed, before he eventually settles on, “You look nice.”</p><p> </p><p>Then he’s clearing his throat, no longer meeting Arthur’s gaze and instead taking up a sudden interest in the still-lit cigar between his fingers. “I, uh - meant to tell you earlier.”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur spares a cautious glance back out towards the party, making sure Dutch hasn’t started wondering where they were and why they weren’t<em> ingratiating </em> themselves.</p><p> </p><p>“Feel like a goddamn fool.” </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t look like one.”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur’s eyes snap back on John, and John’s got the cigar in his mouth again. Lips wrapped around it, and Arthur lets his gaze linger there, on John’s lips, before flicking back up. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s got you so sweet all of a sudden?” Arthur asks him, the corners of his lips twitching up into an amused smirk.</p><p> </p><p>John shrugs, jerky and effortless, he goes back to examining the cigar as he pulls it away from his mouth. “‘M not.”</p><p> </p><p>“You are.”</p><p> </p><p>John doesn’t disagree, going quiet once more, and Arthur looks back out towards the party.</p><p> </p><p>They got a pretty clear vantage point from beside the house, but off to the side and out of the way enough that nobody would really notice them. Keeping a lookout for Hosea or Dutch - anyone who might be wondering where they are and why they aren’t mingling with the guests.</p><p> </p><p>“Think Dutch would notice if we left?” John’s words are muffled around his cigar, and Arthur’s redirecting his attention to the other man once again. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Arthur says, thinking about Dutch finding them - off and secluded, about the way John’s pulling on the cigar, his lips wrapped it, about how it could be so easy for them to just wander off completely - find a bedroom or set up camp somewhere. “Why? You got somethin’ in mind?”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur wonders if it’d be easier just to go to a hotel, somehow walk right out of the party without being detected by Dutch or Hosea. He thinks about getting John alone in one of those fancy hotel rooms that Saint Denis has to offer, crowding him up against the wall, his lips against John’s neck with John’s hands in his hair. </p><p> </p><p>He thinks about the sounds John would make, about that breathy chuckle Arthur loves hearing so much when he drags his teeth along the line of John’s collarbone. He thinks about John sinking down to his knees in front of Arthur, the concentrated look on his face as he glances up at him, his eyes something wide and eager as he undoes Arthur’s belt.</p><p> </p><p>Someone’s laughing, loud and far away, but it’s enough to draw Arthur back in. No longer in some expensive Saint Denis hotel room and back in the shadows of the mayor’s house.</p><p> </p><p>John’s watching Arthur, and he’s smiling now around the cigar, like he knows where Arthur’s mind is at completely. “Yeah, maybe.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>